She's Finally Broken
by CarlaConnor13
Summary: Carchelle friendship - Michelle finds Carla, because the Carla drought is killing me off. Possibly more than my normal oneshots.
1. 1

**Another Carchelle, while we wait for the better fics to be uploaded. Also, try to spot the one line of humour I added in (lol i found it funny).**

Michelle's eyes were set firmly on the pavement, head bowed and shoulders hunched, hood doing little to shield the invasive wind that whipped her hair violently into her face. Her boots had been disgarded since, left in the boot of her car when a pair of Carla's only trainers has been found under the seat. She now looked mismatched; formal black dress and jacket, now with the conspicuous yellow converse that Carla had received last Christmas as a gift from Daniel, who was under the impression she'd go paintballing with him in the new year. Michelle remembered suppressing laughter as Carla had graciously accepted the present, scalding the younger woman for making the man blush.

_She'd known the car was on the blink, yet chose to go out anyway to a meeting with the brewers for the Bistro. When the engine began to crunch and groan Michelle had slammed her open palms onto the dashboard, cursing loudly to herself. Upon inspection, she'd discovered her phone was still sat at the pub, plugged into the cable under the bar; and not, as she'd hoped, in her_ _handbag_.

She was on her way to a taxi firm located in the outskirts of Manchester, of which she'd used on a weekly basis in her party years with Liam and Carla. It was this part of town that bore the reason for her eventual move to Weatherfield, the constant stream of homeless sleeping rough in shop doorways, thieves and thugs targeting the most vulnerable ; most residents stuck in vicious poverty.

Michelle pitied the present residents, as from what she could see the place was more run down than years previous, and she assumed that the same could be said about the poor homeless and lost.

As if on cue, Michelle saw a figure hunched on the doorstep of a house Michelle reckoned was derelict, if the vulgar graffiti and boarded windows were anything to go by.

As Michelle neared the woman, her stomach knotted painfully as her mind thawed in recognition to the grey stained hoodie and torn leggings that she donned, legs curled up into her chest, feet bare and bloodied. The womans face was obscured by dark, brittle tresses, knotted and falling limply over her face, which in succession had been nestled into her knees.

Michelle's breathing quicken as the cogs in her brain finally settled, jarring into place, spurring movement in the stunned brunette stood still on the pavement.

Plucking up the courage to approach the figure she now firmly suspected was Carla, she knelt down, her fingers lingering before finding solice under the womans chin, lifting it up slightly.

Michelle had to supress the urge to throw up when her head lolled backwards, hitting the wall and staying there. Carla's skin wore lines of worry, cemented firmly into her forehead, giving her a permanent expression of fear even in her present lucid state. There was a deep contrast in the colour of the fragile skin, from the dark blue and purple bruises marring her cheeks and eyes, to her pasty white, clammy skin on the rest of her face.

Perhaps even more frightening to Michelle, however, was the way her skin was pinched, revealing her cheek bones that seemed to almost protrude through skin, and the way she could see Carla's collarbone jaggedly prominent in the neck of the hoodie. Her eyes were almost blackened and hollow, although whether the colouration was due to being attacked in her vulnerable state or a blatent lack of sleep was anyone's guess.

**Michelle couldn't process that this was Carla Connor before her; her best friend, the strongest woman she could ever know.**

**"Tougher than Tyson" was Carla Connor. Bouncing back from everything life threw at her.**

**Her childhood.**

**Paul.**

**Tony.**

**That sadistic _rapist_.**

**Drinking.**

**Her suicide attempt.**

**Peter and Tina.**

**Her baby.**

**The bus crash.**

**The flat fire.**

**Her suicide attempt.**

**Gambling.**

**Leaning about Johnny.**

**Nick.**

**_That slap from Gail._**

**Her kidney failure.**

**Aiden.**

**Throughout all these ordeals, Carla had been in control. Albeit maybe in control of her own patterns of self destruction, but she knew what she was doing, even** **believing she deserved it. She had sacrificed her own sanity to protect others through greif, standing alone in the sea, being everyone else's rock.**

**A wave of guilt rushed through Michelle with such an intensity that it almost knocked her to the ground.** **Carla had been there for all of their family constantly, yet when she needed the support herself when _finally _loosing that control, they all, including Michelle, turned their backs.**

**They'd been so wrapped up in their own anger they'd struggled to notice the woman slowly unravelling, losing herself more and more each day**. **Now the regret was real. The guilt a steady throb that physically pained the younger woman as she took in Carla's frail frame, blue cracked lips and violently shaking** **hands.**

She wasnt waking, barely even breathing, her breaths shallow and throaty. Michelle had taken to shaking Carla when simply calling her name didn't work. She feared the woman may actually snap beneath her fingers as she could feel her vines through the thin hoodie encasing her, swallowing her petite frame.

It was clear to Michelle that Carla hadn't found much in the way of food; probably too scared that the police may catch her stealing from a corner shop or begging on a busy cormer where she may be noticed.

It also dawned on her that her immunosupressents were nowhere to be found, suggesting she'd been without them for weeks, which Michelle couldn't bare to consider the consequences of.

If only one thing was clear, it was that Carla needed urgent medical attention, both for her physical injuries and manic mental state.

She was contemplating runnning for help, before turning and shaking the tiny woman again, fingers pressed firmly into her arms. Carla was suddenly very much awake, movements jerky and frantic as she tried to fight off her attacker. The gargled scream that ripped through her body made Michelle's blood thicken, feeling almost jammed in her veins as she froze, hands up in front if her in a sign of peace.

If Carlas state worried her while lucid, her state while conscious petrified her. The older woman visibly trembled, pushing herself as deep into the wall as she could, as if wanting to shrink into it. Her eyes were wide, the normally white whites of them now pink and raw, glazed over from exhaustion. She resembled a small animal, caught in the unforgiven headlights of a daunting and angry lorry.

'Carla, it's me, its Chelle' she advanced on the woman again, forward from where she had retreated to. 'Carla' she repeated, the older woman had resorted to rocking herseld back and forth, repeating hushed mumbles in a trance like state. "they're coming, they're coming, they're coming" she recited, only conceeding when Michelle reached her, entering a state of frightened mania once again.

"Michelle" Carla croaked, Michelle cringed at the use of her full name from her best friend. "Have they sent you? Are they coming? Are you going to to take me away?" The defeat in her tone, slow and precise words cutting the guilt deeper into Michelle.

Kneeling down, she linked her hands with one of Carla's, ignoring the way it shook and was shocklingly cold in her own palms. "No baby, my car broke down, but I'm glad it did, because I've found you. Hey look at me come on" she used one finger to hook Carla's chin and lift it, forcing her to look into her eyes. "You're cold" she stated. " take my jacket", slowly taking it off as Carla nodded.

It swallowed the woman's shrinking frame, making her look like a small child dressing in her mothers clothes.

_Carla and Michelle giggled loudly, hands pressed to their mouths, in a bid to muffle the shrieks as to not attract attention from Michelles mother downstairs._

_Both children were dressed in floaty floral dresses of Michelle's, her mothers high heels on their feet as they teetered about the room, wobbling dramatically. Their faces smeared with the makeup __Helen had tried to hide in the box beneath the bed._ _They'd each tried to replicate an intricate hair do seen on glossy magazine covers in the newspaper agents down the road, in the others hair which consequently went arie, hair tangled and messed in top of their heads_.

_The new dresses 'borrowed' from Helen's wardrobe drowned both the girls, trailing on the floor, causing them to trip and stumble, eruptions of laughter bursting from them __both._

"Do you trust me?" Michelle asked warily, eyes locking with Carla's. The older woman wore a look of fear, eyes seeming to fill with tears though it was hard to tell, as she kept her vacant eyes on Michelle's. "I don't know" she shook her head, looking ashamed at her lack of confidence in the woman before her. Michelle didn't blame her, in fact she agreed, guilty for letting Carla get this bad.

"Let me help you baby, let me take you home" at this plea, Carla became jerky, shaking her head and backing away. "They'll be waiting. They know I'm bad. They want me to pay".

Not wanting to do anything against Carla's will, but refusing to leave her here as the sky began to darken, Michelle mumbled a quiet apology before grasping hold of Carla's arms and hoisting her up. The tiny woman tried to rebel, but ultimately gave up, too weak to do anything but allow Michelle to guide her down the street, silent tears splashing down her cheeks, burning hot against her algid skin.

Her knees buckled, legs giving up as she subconsciously leant her head back onto Michelle's shoulder behind her, the younger woman also emotional at Carla's weight against her and her violently shaking arms in hers.

The taxi firm office was cosy, providing a small space for them to wait while the taxi drive to them. Carla was curled up in Michelle's lap, one of her fingers positioned in her mouth, the picture of a young child.

The worried eye of the manager peered through the blinds at the women, contemplating phoning an ambulance for the brunette curled up defensively, despite the other woman assuring she would get help at home; needing more than just an ambulance at this point. He was confused, why they were out at this time when one was in this state? Why did they both look so scared? What haa happened foe someone to look that vulnerable?

He watched regretfully as the taxi pulled away, the woman both inside, the smaller with her head rested on the other, who protectively held her close.

Michelle didn't know what would happen back in Weatherfield, but she'd come to realise that she would do anything to keep Carla safe.

She wouldnt let her be hurt again.

**Note: The line of shitty humour I added was about Gail's slap while listing the trauma's Carla has been through. (Yes I am aware I'm the onoy one that found that funny and that I need more friends my own age).**

**Requests are welcome, I'm finally getting on top of revision, learning to drive and even finding time to write so everything's Gucci (ew. cant belive I just said Gucci).**

**P.S- I love Toyah Battersby, okay bye.**


	2. 2

**Appalled at Corrie tonight, so decided to update this. The carchelle drought is killing me and the pitiful excuse for a scene tonight broke me further. Okay, this is for my fellow Carchelle stans, I love you!****In this, Carla is much more vulnerable than on Corrie, not trusting anyone and having been sleeping rough for two months (not in a hostel) so she is much weaker too.**

Carla was in no physical state to protest, starved half to death, complacent as Michelle steered her, arms wrapped around her, holding her arms in front of her. She was taking most of the older womans in her arms; it was dark and she trembled at the sights of the houses of her neighbours. Carla was working herself into a state, yet still to try to break free from Michelle's grip. Her breathing had become frantic and laboured, deep gutteral breaths as she tried to remain calm, breaths shallowing as she tried to take in oxygen, to stop herself from drowning, drowning in air.

The door to Roy's Rolls was closed, the lights off despite this early time. Michelle wasn't surprised however, knowing the extent of the old mans guilt over rejecting Carla and failing to see her weakening sense of emotional stability. He'd taken to closing the shop earlier each day, retiring to the quietness his flat held, the walls somewhat sheilding him from thr reality thta he may not ever see his surrogate daughter again.

Alive anyway.

Michelle thrust her clenched fist against the heavy door, still holding up the semi conscious brunette up tightly, preventing her limp body from slumping to the floor in an undignified heap. The light flickered on in the cafe, promting a sigh from the woman, who gave one last wrap on the door.

Roy tentatively opened the door but quickly jumped backwards when a flustered Michelle bustled past him; a trembling and barely recognisable Carla slumped against her. The woman looked as if she hadnt eaten in weeks, and been in some kind of trouble; hair mottled and crusted with a deep crimson. Her face was contrasted with blues and blacks against a deathly white, pastey skin.

There was a sheen of sweat glistening in the light of the cafe that made a lump form, and his throat to clench painfully, Roy lurching into action holding the door for Michelle to bundle Carla up the stairs, which was made more difficult with an increasingly limp woman in Michelle's arms.

Once in the safety of the flat, Michelle guided Carla over to the couch, releasing her, not thinking, as the older womans legs buckled and she flopped onto the sofa; head lolling and eyes rolling dramatically to the back of her head.

A strangled sob escaped Michelles lips, the first noise emitted from the woman since returning to the cafe.

Carlas lucid state frightened her, she'd never seen her this vulnerable, this untrusting. Even after Frank, she still had herself, she was still Carla. Fighting and putting on a brave face, albeit with the drinking.

This time however, there was no drink.

There was no gambling or bitter remarks at those trying to help.

Carla Connor had gone, replaced by a shell of her, a timid child lost in the supermarket.

And for the first time, Michelle realised how alone she was. Carla was the one person that had made her feel better, and vice versa. But now she was alone.

Falling to her knees before the couch, she scrambled to embrace her best friend; hastily gripping her fragile state tightly, as if to try and pull all the shattered pieces of her back together. She stroked her hair, which was splayed across the cushion, kissing her damp forehead and mumbling to herself.

Roy stood, taking in the scene he found before him; not quite able to believe that his daughter was back; not able to accept that she was not the same person he left, that she'd been overcome with this illness.

He felt like he was invading a private moment between the women, but couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away. Michelle was openly sobbing now, Carla just lay there, eyes wide and red, rocking back and forth as she was held by the younger.

He realised then just how much they need each other. Realised just what a mistake he'd made by throwing her out.

Roy stayed where he had perched himself, at the table with his head rested in his hands, trying to block out both womans cries, each of them inconsolable. He'd only moved when everything fell silent, when he no longer heard frantic, pained gasping breathes, or sniffling.

What he'd lifted his head to, rendered something in his heart to stir, a feeling of love settling at the sight of both the woman tangled on the couch, legs entwined and faces calm, although still stained with tears. Carla looked more peaceful than he'd seen in months, but he knew it wouldnt last long. The time she slept was limited, her paranoia refusing to let her relax long before pushing her into another crazed episode.

When Carla finally stirred, in turn waking Michelle who carefully detatched herself and made her way over to the counter where Roy stood, he had placed a pot of soup on the stove, praying that Carla would accept it willingly when she rose.

"Ive never seen her like that Roy, she thought I was going to hurt her" Michelle mumbled, tears forming in her eyes at tbe thought of her best friend thinking she'd do that. Shaking his head Roy placed a hand awkwardly on her shoulder, "Michelle she's confused, paranoid, ill. Carla knows you would never hurt her, you understand that this isnt her, alright we'll get her the help she needs".

Michelle seemed to compose herself, nodding automatically before her face crumbled again.

"Im scared Roy. What if we've lost her? O would never forgiv--" she was cut off by movement from the couch; an obviously weakened Carla pulling herself to a sitting position. She began to stand, but her head lolled and she fell backwards again, distraught at her inability to escape.

Michelle was beside her now, bowl of soup in her hands as she knelt down. She was grateful that Roy realised that in her Carla's weakened state it was unlikely that anything more solid than soup would be sustained in her stomach.

Motioning to the bowl, Michelle whispered to Carla, who had started to rock back and forth again, fingers tapping on her knees; knuckles white. "Eat some soup for me baby?"

At Carla's frantic shaking head, Michelle leaned to place a lingering kiss to her forehead, "im sorry" she whispered, before spooning some of the liquid and testing the temperature with her top lip, as she had done year's ago when feeding Ryan.

Happy that it wouldnt burn her best friend, she coaxed it into her mouth, trying to ignore the way she shook her head and trembled in fear.

Spoonfuls later and Carla was now barely responding to Michelle, accepting the soup, tears dripping down her face as she was incapable of fighting anymore, too scared to do anything but let herself be fed, the feeling of nausea settling firmly in her stomach.

_Thats the poison, Carla._ _Their poisoning you! Just like you poison everything._

Openly sobbing now, as Michelle continued, Roy standing and retiring into the bedroom; unable to watch as the woman he thought of as a daughter was breaking down before him.

She had tried to pinch her mouth closed, not allowing anymore of the acidic soup to pass her lips but Michelle had overpowered her, the spoon practically being forced into her mouth before retracted and the process repeated. Carlas blotched eyes had met Michelle's momentarily, silently begging her to stop; connecting with eyes that were also red with tears.

Just like before, they both sobbed.

Michelle wondering if Carla was gone for good, seeing none of the feisty factrly boss reflected in the glassy eyes staring back at her.

She had a long way to go but Michelle was adamant to be with her along the whoel journey. She refused to let Carla walk alone again.

She'd began to save the body of the woman she loved; she only prayed she could save her troubled mind too.


End file.
